


Every Single Day

by sohmsohm



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Car Accidents, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:54:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25277260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sohmsohm/pseuds/sohmsohm
Summary: Ever since that day, it got harder for Akaashi to remember things. But that wouldn’t stop Bokuto—he would remind him, every single day if he had to.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Comments: 5
Kudos: 62





	Every Single Day

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a little thing that I wrote at two in the morning one day, I hope you enjoy it! Also, I'm sorry in advance. Thank you for reading!

“I’m home, Akaashi,” Bokuto called out, as he opened the door. 

“Oh, hello. Welcome back,” Akaashi replied. He was sitting down on the couch, a bag by his side. “What’s in your hand?”

“Just a bunch of food. I told you I went to the grocery store, remember?”

Akaashi rubbed his head. “Sorry, I guess I forgot.”

Bokuto quietly inhaled. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

Akaashi got up from where he was sitting, the bag now slung over his shoulder. “Well, I’m off.”

“Where are you going?”

“To volleyball practice, obviously.”

“Akaashi…”

“What?”

“You don’t play volleyball anymore, remember?” Bokuto reminded him gently. “You graduated from Fukurodani Academy two years ago. There’s no need for you to go to the gym anymore.”

Akaashi frowned. “Oh, of course... I saw this bag and I just thought…” he trailed off. Akaashi attempted to finish his statement, but ultimately failed. He sighed. “Thank you. I would be lost without you… Ah… Um…”

“Bokuto,” he reminded him again. “Bokuto Koutarou.”

“Right,” Akaashi said, confusion still prevalent on his face. “Bokuto-san, I really appreciate your help. I don’t why you’re so kind to me—taking care of me, buying the groceries, answering all my questions—even though I don’t even have the courtesy to remember your name. I’ve been so rude.”

“Don’t worry about it Akaashi!” Bokuto reassured him, hoping the pleasant tone he was trying to manifest was coming across. “I know you can’t help it.” 

“But still…”

Bokuto put his hand on Akaashi’s shoulder. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I’ll always be here for you.”

Akaashi just nodded. “Well, I better put the groceries away. You can go to your room and relax for a bit.”

“Okay, sounds good,” Bokuto responded, walking towards his room.

“Where… Where do we keep the spices again?” he heard Akaashi mumble in the distance.

Bokuto went into his room, sat on the bed, and sulked. It was the same thing every single day. He would come home to Akaashi everyday and everyday Akaashi would ask the same questions: _Where did you go? What happened? How do I know you? Who are you again? Who was I?_

Bokuto attempted to turn on the TV and watch the current volleyball match going on, but it was too hard to see the screen with the well of tears flowing down his face.

* * *

It was a day like any other. Six months ago, Bokuto and Akaashi were eating at their usual hangout spot. That’s when he dropped the news. 

“Akaashi? You’re kidding me right?”

“Listen Bokuto-san, I’ve been meaning to tell you this for a while but…”

“No. I don’t want to hear this right now. There’s no ‘I’ve been meaning to tell you this for a while.’ I can’t believe you!" Bokuto exclaimed. "You’ve hid the fact that you’ve had a girlfriend from me for a whole year?!”

“There was never a good time to tell you!” Akaashi defended himself. 

“Akaashi, I am your best friend. Don’t pull some shoddy excuse like ‘there was never a good time.’ That’s so lame.”

“Why are you being so dramatic? It’s not like my love life affects you in any way.”

_But it does Akaashi_ , Bokuto thought. _More than you can ever know. But how can I tell you that? That I count the days on the calendar until we see each other again, because a day without seeing you is the most difficult one to go through. That whenever I get restless, I just picture your face and it puts me at ease. Your love life affects me because you’re_ my _love life. My entire world revolves around you. But how can I tell you that?_

Bokuto huffed. “You’re just supposed to tell me these things, alright? Is that so hard to understand?”

Akaashi sighed, obviously exasperated. “See, I always hesitated whenever I tried to tell you because I knew you would overreact like this.”

“Well congratulations! Looks like everything went just as predicted, huh? You read me like a book,” Bokuto spat. “Just like you do with everyone else in your life. Reading and manipulating people, so you can twist them around your finger to play your little game.”

A look of horror spread across Akaashi’s face. “Excuse me?”

“Nothing,” Bokuto mumbled, getting up from his chair.

“Where are you going?”

“Anywhere but here,” Bokuto yelled at Akaashi, storming out of the restaurant. “I need a breather.”

“Bokuto-san, wait!” Akaashi called out, racing to follow Bokuto outside. 

Bokuto was already slamming the button for the signal to cross the street. He didn’t turn around when he heard Akaashi’s footsteps behind him.

“I’m sorry, okay? Bokuto-san, please-”

“It’s kinda late for apologies, don’t you think?”

The word “walk” illuminated on the crosswalk sign. 

“Goodbye, Akaashi.”

“ _Bokuto-san!_ ”

Everything was happening so fast. His foot on the asphalt of the street. The sound of the car’s horn closeby. His shirt grabbed from behind. Akaashi suddenly right in front of him. The large skid the car did after the collision. The loud cry that emerged from Bokuto’s throat when he saw the damage that had been done.

“Keiji!” Bokuto wept, holding an injured Akaashi in his arms. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean it, I promise! Just please wake up!” 

When there was no response, Bokuto just pulled him in tighter. “Keiji… I forgive you.”

* * *

Akaashi could only remember so much from the accident that day. Sometimes he had dreams about it. The man whose hair resembled an owl called his name. He stepped out on the street. The immense pain he felt throughout his body. His head pounded to no end.

He vaguely recalled his time at the hospital. The doctors were talking about “intense damage,” “deteriorating memory loss,” and “amnesia.” The nurses were saying it was a miracle he survived. Akaashi was fed an endless amount of medicine to try and counteract the trauma his body endured. His chart with his prescribed daily dosage rested by his bedside, next to the sunflowers he received.

The sunflowers… To this day, Akaashi was confused by their presence. Inside the bouquet, there was a note that read, “I’m sorry, but this isn’t what I signed up for.” Akaashi didn’t understand the meaning of it. He didn’t even know who wrote it. He tried asking the owl man who came to visit him everyday at the hospital, but every time Akaashi brought it up, Owl Man would change the subject. So the sunflowers just sat there. Day after day, another petal from the bouquet would wilt and fall away, disconnected forever from the flower from which it came. 

When Akaashi was discharged from the hospital, he was told that he would need someone’s help at home, like a family member or a maid, as his memory loss would make it so even simple daily tasks were a struggle. At that point, Akaashi could barely recognize half the names in the contacts list on his phone, if that many. How on Earth was he supposed to decide who was going to assist him at home? That’s when Owl Man promptly volunteered to become his caretaker. He seemed harmless enough and even said that he would do it for free, so Akaashi gratefully accepted. Owl Man always sat by his side, saying things like, “It was the least I could do.” No words could describe his gratitude towards him.

Shaking his head, Akaashi mentally scolded himself. He really needed to stop calling his caretaker “Owl Man.” But, no matter how hard Akaashi racked his brain, his name always slipped his mind. Akaashi couldn’t seem to retain any knowledge about his caretaker, even though they lived together and he saw him on a daily basis. His caretaker was undoubtedly the most helpful in his recovery process; Akaashi was ashamed he was unable to recall such an important name. _Think! He just told you this a couple minutes ago!_

He sighed. It was no use. 

Akaashi peered into the room of his caretaker. He slept peacefully in his room. Usually, his caretaker was so stressed—always running around, doing everything in the apartment—it was a nice change to see him so calm. 

Akaashi never understood why he became his caretaker in the first place. He couldn’t remember any significant memories that they had together. Then again, Akaashi couldn’t remember any memories, period. He could recall a select few moments, but that was about it. Even those were touch-and-go sometimes.

“Whoever you are,” Akaashi said softly, careful not to disturb his caretaker. “Thank you.”

He was turning back towards the kitchen when a piece of paper on the counter caught his eye. Akaashi picked it up and saw it was the receipt from when his caretaker went shopping earlier. It ran long with the endless list of items that his caretaker had bought, but only one line caught his attention. 

_Customer name: Bokuto Koutarou_

Akaashi’s eyes widened. He quickly scrambled to find a permanent marker. Once he did, he opened the cap and began to write on his hand: Bokuto.

_Every single day_ , Akaashi thought. _I’ll write this name on my hand every single day if I have to_. 

“I promise… One day, I’ll remember.”

* * *

“Gah!”

Bokuto came running into Akaashi’s room. “Akaashi! Are you alright?”

“I… Um…” Akaashi stuttered. “N-No…”

Bokuto climbed onto Akaashi’s bed and pulled him into a tight embrace. Akaashi sobbed into his chest. 

“Nightmares again?” Bokuto whispered gently.

“Mmhmm…”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to worry about them. They’re just dreams. They’re not real. I’m here now.”

“The car… It’s so loud…”

“I know, I know… Shhh… It’s okay…” 

Once Akaashi calmed down, he pulled away from Bokuto, wiping the tears off his face.

“You okay now?” Bokuto asked.

“Yes,” Akaashi replied. “Thank you. You’re always there for me when I need it most.”

Bokuto smiled. “I’m just doing my job,” he said simply. “If you’re okay now, I don’t want to bother you any longer. So, I’ll be going back-”

“Wait!”

Bokuto turned around. He tilted his head towards Akaashi. “What is it?”

Taking a deep breath, Akaashi began to speak. “I keep trying to scratch the mental walls of my brain to remember something, _anything_ , significant from my past with you—but I fall flat every time. Regardless of that, you take care of me. No matter how many times I forget, you remind me of everything that once was. I wouldn’t be able to function without you. For that, I owe you my life.”

Bokuto almost crumbled down right then and there. “Akaashi…” 

Akaashi shook his head. “You’re so patient with me. I don’t deserve it, to be honest.”

“You do,” Bokuto asserted. “More than you will never know, you do. I would cross every line for you, Akaashi.”

“I appreciate that,” Akaashi replied. “I can’t say that I know who you were, but I’ll do my best to learn who you are now.”

Bokuto’s eyes widened. “I-”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to say anything, you do most of the talking between the two of us anyways. It’s about time I open my mouth and say what I’m thinking for once,” Akaashi said.

Bokuto nodded. “Okay, say what’s on your mind. I’m here to listen.”

This time it was Akaashi who nodded. He continued. “This memory loss is really frustrating me. It’s like my mind is playing a cruel game with me and I can’t seem to win. But with your help, I know that one day, I’ll beat this thing. You’re my secret weapon—the card I’ve been hiding up my sleeve to fight back against the amnesia.”

Akaashi held up his hand, trying to decipher what he had written on it earlier in permanent ink. It was dark, so he could barely make out the letters, but he managed. “Bo… ku… to… Bokuto-san?”

“Y-yes?”

Akaashi smiled. “You’re my ace.”


End file.
